Amnesia
by charlayla
Summary: [Songfic: 'Amnesia' by 5SOS] "I miss her. I miss her to the point that just thinking about her makes my stomach feel like an empty pit. Just thinking about her makes me feel like I can't breathe. I recognise the irony of the whole situation – me, Draco Malfoy, pining over losing the love of Hermione bloody Granger."


**Disclaimer: anything you recognise ain't mine**

**This story is based on the song of the same name by 5 Seconds of Summer. I was listening to the song while driving and suddenly just thought it would make a good Dramione fic – as long as I do it justice! I've been meaning to write this for ages but hadn't gotten around to it because I was so busy. But this song was playing on the radio constantly and plaguing me!**

**So here it is. **

**It is written from Draco's POV. It's my first time writing in first person – I found it a little weird because I instinctively wanted to revert back into third person! But hopefully I fixed it all.**

**Any feedback is always welcome!**

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><p><span><strong>Amnesia<strong>

**Tuesday, November 8****th**** 2005**

It is a miserable fall morning; there is barely any light filtering into the Ministry atrium. But I'm not really complaining – it suits how I feel to the tee. In all honesty, it suits how I've been feeling for weeks now.

I miss her. I miss her to the point that just thinking about her makes my stomach feel like an empty pit. Just thinking about her makes me feel like I can't breathe.

I recognise the irony of the whole situation – me, Draco Malfoy, pining over losing the love of Hermione bloody Granger.

XXX

We had been dating for months – just under a year to be exact – when she ended it. And no matter where I go, _something_ reminds me of her. Reminds me of her dark expressive eyes, the way she smells of black vanilla and gardenia, the way she crinkles her nose in deep thought, the way my heart pounded when she kissed me.

Oh dear Merlin, the way she used to kiss me. As if nothing else mattered. As if there was no one left in the world but the two of us. I could have kissed her for a lifetime.

Given the chance, I still would.

I stroll past a magazine stand on my way to the office. Bile rises through my stomach and I'm sure I'm going to be sick. The world seems to crowd around me as I grab the nearest tabloid.

A picture of her with that damned Weasel is splashed across the cover under the heading 'Wizarding Britain's Hottest New Couple'. Please tell me it isn't true – oh god, please tell me it isn't.

XXX

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting across from none other than _the_ Harry Potter. We both ended up working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after graduating from Hogwarts, two years after the end of the war. We somehow became friends a few years ago. Don't get me wrong – there was a shitload of animosity to start off with – but being partnered together and relying on each other to save our arses put things into perspective.

In fact, he is the reason I reconnected with Hermione. And the reason we ended up dating.

"Potter. Is it true?" I ask, throwing down a copy of the magazine on his desk. He avoids looking at me for a few moments. It's enough to make me nauseated.

"I don't know."

Are you fucking kidding me?

"What do you mean, you don't know? You're best friends with them both!" I yell, my vision blurring with anger.

"Malfoy…" He begins. His tone is infuriating – how dare he patronise me?

"Don't Malfoy me, Potter." I hiss. "Tell me _now_."

"I don't bloody know! Hermione isn't going to talk to me about her love life, she's well aware that it'd put me in an awkward position with you. And you know Ron and I haven't spoken for months."

Dammit. He has a point.

It's no secret that Weasley has wanted Hermione since our school days. He had been _furious_ with Potter after learning that he had reintroduced Hermione and I. Reintroduce probably isn't the right word – he coerced us into spending time together and whole heartedly encouraged our relationship.

If memory serves me correct, Hermione never reciprocated Weasley's feelings – save for what she described as a rash act in the height of a war. I had wanted to be mad when she told me about it but I remember what the war was like; none of us can be truly held accountable for our actions.

My heart drops to my feet and I suddenly feel lightheaded. I lean against Potter's desk to try to stop the room from spinning.

"Is she happy?"

I can hear my voice – it sounds foreign to me. Hoarse and pained.

I want to be annoyed at the pity sprawled across Potter's face but I can't be. I want her to be happy – I want the best for her – but I can't stop myself from wanting her to be as hopeless without me as I am without her.

"I think so."

I don't try to speak – I already know that I can't. All I can do is grab the magazine from his desk and leave his office.

XXX

I am torturing myself. I know it. But I can't stop myself from reading the damn article and overanalysing each image. Hermione and Weasley chatting over coffee at a café, Hermione and Weasley walking through Diagon Alley together, Mama Weasley engulfing Hermione in an embrace as she leaves that hovel they called a house…that fucking Weasel greeting Hermione with a kiss on the cheek.

I see red. How dare that blundering imbecile even touch _my _woman?

And suddenly, the world comes crashing down on me. She's not my woman anymore, is she?

I struggle to take a breath, my lungs suddenly won't cooperate. I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears as my mouth runs dry. Oh god, she's not mine anymore.

I've lost her.

XXX

One moment we were enjoying ourselves. And the next thing I know, we're screaming at each other. I have no idea how everything fell apart so quickly.

Who am I kidding? That's complete bullshit – I know exactly how everything crumbled beneath us. Why did I have to fucking ruin everything?

[Flashback]

Hermione is curled up against my side on the couch in her apartment, watching that television thing that Muggles seem to love so much. I have to admit, its bloody brilliant. My arm is tucked firmly around her waist, her head resting on my shoulder.

She lifts her head from its resting place, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. I turn to face her, a feeling of warmth flooding me. She kisses me again, this time on my lips. I'm sure I've died and somehow ended up in heaven. But then again, this is how I feel with every kiss we share. My lips gently caress hers as I cup her face in my palm.

I pull back for a moment to whisper to her. "I love you."

I can see her eyes brighten happily. "Love you too, Draco."

She presses her lips to mine again before snuggling back into my side. I am in perfect bliss.

"Come over tomorrow. I'll cook you dinner."

Before I can stop myself, the words thoughtlessly tumble from my mouth. "Can't. My parents are making me take Astoria out for dinner."

Shit.

I can feel her stiffen under my arm before she pulls away from me. "What?"

When will I learn? Some things are better left unsaid.

Lucius had somehow escaped being sentenced to Azkaban after the war, instead being condemned to house arrest within Malfoy Manor for the rest of his living days. I didn't think it was punishment enough. And despite everything we had seen during the war, he held firm to his archaic beliefs. And my mother wasn't much better.

They were pushing me to settle down and find a suitable wife. I knew exactly what they meant by 'suitable' – beautiful, submissive, demure and most importantly, of untarnished Pureblood ancestry. In their eyes, Astoria Greengrass fit the bill perfectly. I couldn't disagree more.

I was being stupid – I knew it – but I couldn't quite bring myself to tell them that I had found someone. That I had found the love of my life. That I had found Hermione.

"Hermione…"

"Don't." She hisses, rising from the couch to stand over me. "How could you?"

"How could I what?" I ask. For some reason, I'm arguing. Just for the sake of it. "I don't _want_ to go; they're making me!"

"You're not a child, Draco!" I can see the hurt and anger clearly written on her face. "You're twenty-five!"

That didn't sit right with me thought I'm well aware of how childishly I am behaving. I stand up as well. "You know what they're like! I can't exactly say no!"

"Yes you can!" She yells before her voice drops to a pained whisper. "You would if you loved me." The tears in her eyes are killing me.

"I do love you." I growl at her. How dare she say that I don't?

She turns her face away from me and speaks so softly that I almost miss what she says. "You can say you do all you want but actions speak much louder than words. You wouldn't go gallivanting around with other women if you did."

I close my eyes and count to three before speaking. "Hermione, you know it isn't that easy." For the life of me, I can't explain why it is so hard. But for some reason my parents have always been my weakness. I know that they are wrong, that they are stuck in the past, but whenever I try to confront them, my defence crumbles. I end up feeling like a five year old boy again and give into whatever they want.

I reach out and turn her face towards me. My heart lurches at the tears running down her cheeks.

"It is, Draco. It's simple. If you loved me, you would stand up to your parents." Her tears are freely flowing now but I find myself getting annoyed.

"I can't! It's not as simple as you think!" She flinches at the tone of my voice. "Why can't you get that through your thick skull?!"

Her eyes flash angrily at me as her makeup forms little black tracks down her face. "Get this through _your_ thick skull, Draco. If you don't stand up to your parents – if you don't tell them about me – then we have no future."

Her words drive a dagger through my heart. "Hermione…" I gasp as I step towards her.

She puts a hand up to stop me. "No. Don't. Draco, you have a decision to make. I'm not going to let you drag me along, only to get my heart destroyed later on. This relationship will literally go nowhere if you can't tell your parents to bugger off. So what is it going to be?"

She's trying to be so strong but her face gives away the anguish she is feeling. All I want to do is to hold her and take away her pain, but I know that I'm the reason behind it.

"Hermione, I…" I hesitate. That is enough for her to let out a gut-wrenching sob. She is weeping freely now, her body heaving with each cry. The lump in my throat multiplies as she steps away from me.

This can't be it. This simply cannot be the end of the best thing in my life. I barely hear her next words through my grief. But I do hear them.

And they shatter me.

"Get out."

[End Flashback]

XXX

I wish I could go back to that day and take back every single word.

No.

I wish I could go back to before that day and have the balls to tell my parents what I thought. What I thought of them and their ridiculous ideals. Of how they were tearing my life apart.

But it was too late now.

And I had lost everything that mattered to me. I had lost Hermione.

I feel the tears stinging at my eyes before they fall but I can't bring myself to care. My heart hurts too much to care.

"Malfoy, we've go-"

Oh for Merlin's sake. His face is overcame with pity. I hastily wipe at my face, pretending as though he hadn't seen anything. The last thing I need is his sympathy.

XXX

I enter my apartment and I'm reminded of her. Everywhere I turn, memories with her linger. I can't get her out of my mind.

I see us in the kitchen, me hugging her from behind as she makes us breakfast.

I see her lying on my bed, oblivious to the world as she reads her book.

I see her emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but my shirt from the night before.

I see her up against the wall as I make love to her.

I see her. Everywhere.

It doesn't help that I can't bring myself to get rid of the pictures of us. There's nothing in my living room; they are all in my bedroom. All over my bedroom. And all they do is remind me that she is no longer in my life. That I no longer fall asleep with her in my arms and wake up with a smile on my face and a light heart.

A roar comes from behind me as my fireplace comes alive. Blaise's head appears amidst the flames.

"Draco! There you are!"

I find myself irritated by his words. "Well of course I am." I drawl. "This _is_ my apartment."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Dude, what's going on? We've barely heard from you in weeks."

All his words do is remind me that I was once happy. That my life was once so full of love. But I can't blame him – he has no idea.

That was another point of contention in my relationship with Hermione. The fact that none of my friends knew about us. Hers did – well, the close ones, of course. But mine were completely oblivious. Blaise wouldn't have minded but the rest of them are almost as bad as my parents. Telling them would have meant kissing our friendship goodbye.

In hindsight, it would have been worth it. Anything would have been worth it if it meant keeping Hermione.

"Sorry, Blaise."

"Want to talk about it? Or would you rather get pissed?" I can see the concern on his face. He has always been a good friend. I should have told him everything from the start.

All the emotions of the day floods me and I feel as though the ground beneath me is going to give way. I'd much rather drink until I forget but Hermione would have hated it – and for some reason, that still matters to me

"Talk."

XXX

**Monday, November 21st 2005**

It has been two weeks since Potter walked in on me crying over Hermione. Strangely enough, I couldn't give a damn. Let him see me cry – let everyone see me cry. Let them see me fall apart.

Because that is exactly what is happening.

Every magazine cover has been covered in her beautiful face since Skeeter's original article about Weasley and her. Nothing has been confirmed, but the speculation is enough for me. I can't take it.

It has been two weeks since I spilled everything to Blaise. How reluctant I had initially been to spend time with Hermione at Potter's request. How her compassion and forgiveness for all my mistakes made me first love her. How we began dating, falling for each other with every moment together. How my stupidity and cowardice destroyed everything.

How I feel like I can't live without her.

It has been two weeks since Blaise blankly told me I was a complete idiot. That I had truly fucked up. That, regardless of the fact that it was all my fault, he would be there for me if I needed to talk to him.

My eyes focus on the most recent picture of Hermione, chatting with Ginny. Her face splits into a wide grin at something that Potter's girl says. And it breaks my heart. I convince myself that it doesn't quite reach her eyes – but that could just be my wishful thinking.

The articles talk of her multiple outings, interspaced with pictures of her at galas and charity events. She is breathtaking as always.

But what gets me the most is that fact that she looks happy.

XXX

My heart feels empty. I feel empty. Hollow. Broken.

How am I supposed to live without her? How am I supposed to breathe without her by my side?

I need her.

I love her.

XXX

I curse myself for all the idiotic things I did and said and for all the things I didn't say or do.

I imagined – no, I still imagine – my life with her. I can see our children – so innocent and incredibly intelligent, with soft golden brown hair. And with her eyes, hopefully. Her eyes hold so much depth, so much love.

I can see us living in a beautiful home – the whole bloody picket fence and all. I see her only getting more and more beautiful with age. I picture us growing old together, not caring as we get saggier and grumpier.

And I want all of that. I want _that_ life with Hermione – I want a forever sort of life with her.

XXX

I can barely sleep these days. My bed feels empty. It doesn't feel right to lie in it alone.

My soul aches as I realise that my pillow, that my bed, no longer holds her scent. Has it really been that long? That's a stupid question – of course it has. It has been seven weeks, four days, ten hours and thirty six minutes since she left.

Part of me wishes I could Obliviate myself – selectively, of course – and get rid of every moment we shared. Maybe then I wouldn't have to live knowing what happened, knowing what an idiot I was. Maybe then I wouldn't hurt so much.

But the other part of me – the much stronger part – knows just how precious every single moment was.

No matter how insignificant it seemed at the time.

Like when she took me to the Muggle restaurant she had often visited with her family during her childhood. How she brought me coffee in bed every morning. How she always saved the last French fry for me. The way she fought to stay awake as we chatted late into the night.

As much as those little things tear me apart, they are everything to me. Those moments are all I have left of her.

XXX

I bury my face into my pillow, and deeply inhale. There is a small patch in the corner that has held onto her scent. It is like a drug but I'm scared that if I keep breathing it in, it will be gone forever.

Does she even think of me anymore? Does she miss me? Does her heart ache for me like mine does for her?

I can only pray that she does but if Skeeter's articles are anything to go by, she doesn't. She has moved on. And that thought in itself rips me apart.

XXX

**Monday, November 28th 2005**

Another week passes hollowly. I can honestly say that I cannot remember a single moment. None of them meant anything.

"Malfoy."

I glance up from my dining table to see Potter's head hovering in my fireplace. He looks nervous. Knowing him, he has gone and done something stupid. I let him through.

"Did you need something?" I ask. I know that if I hadn't said anything, he would have stood silently for a good five minutes.

"You've been a nightmare to work with." He starts. And apparently the floodgates have opened. "I almost hated you again when things ended between Hermione and you. I couldn't believe that you had been such an imbecile, that you had hurt her so much. But I've seen what this has done to you."

I want to be annoyed with him. I try to hold onto that feeling and harness it but I can't. I _know_ I've made things harder for him. I know he has put in extra hours covering for me, finishing my paperwork so that I don't have to face the repercussions.

He's still talking. "I know that it ended because you were a complete idiot. And to be honest, I first thought that maybe you _didn't _really care about her but after everything I've seen in the past few weeks, I know that that isn't true. I know she means the world to you. So…"

He pauses for a moment. And I wonder what on earth he has done. "So I think you both owe it to yourselves to talk it out."

I'm sorry – what?

Almost as suddenly as he appeared, he disappears into the fireplace. And suddenly there she is. Hermione Granger is standing in my living room.

Holy shit.

She fidgets nervously on the spot as I stare at her. Was this real? Surely, I am dreaming. I have gotten so little sleep over the past eight weeks that I really wouldn't be surprised if it really is a dream.

"Hermione." I barely even whisper her name. She is so beautiful, even more so than the last time I saw her.

"I'm sorry to intrude. Harry insisted I come." She seems tired and if anything, it adds something so endearing to her appearance. Sweet Circe - this is real.

She flashes me a hint of a smile as she tucks a curl of hair behind her ear.

"C-can I hold you?" Oh bloody hell, I'm stammering like some complete fool.

Her eyes show a flash of surprise before she shuffles on the spot. "Okay."

My mouth is suddenly dry and the room feels as though all air has been sucked out of it. Is this really happening? I step towards her, my arms moving to grasp her. My stomach erupts into butterflies as I come into contact with her.

Oh god I have missed this. I have _craved_ this.

I pull her against me, my arms folding around her dainty body. Her hands come up to clutch at my side and I suddenly feel as though I can finally breathe again. That exquisite scent of vanilla and gardenias assaults my every sense and I feel like everything is right with the world.

But as almost as soon as that breathtaking moment began, it ends. She steps away from me, glassy-eyed. The mere sight of her sadness hits me like a sledgehammer to my gut. How could I be the cause of her pain?

"Hermione…" I breathe. "I've missed you."

She doesn't say anything in response, simply averting her eyes from mine. I don't blame her.

But it does hurt me and I just have to know.

"Have you missed me? Have you even thought about me?"

Almost as soon as I say it, I know it is a mistake. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, anger flaring on her face. "How _dare_ you? How dare you even say that?" She hisses.

But I'm unrelenting. "Well? Have you?"

"Of course I have, you ass!" She shouts. "Not a second has passed that I _haven't_ thought about you, that I haven't had to physically stop myself from crying…because of _you_. I have missed you constantly since that night."

I'm sure my heart skips a beat at her words. And yet for some reason my mind refuses to filter what I say. "Didn't seem like you missed me while you were frolicking around with Weasley."

_Slap_.

I most definitely deserved that. I'm an idiot.

"Fuck you, Draco. You should know better than to believe every piece of bull that that vile woman writes." How could I have forgotten her deep disdain for Skeeter? "And you should know better than to even think that I would go out with Ron. He is like my brother. How many times do I need to tell you that?"

She has a point. She always has a point. How could I have believed all of that crap?

"Well I just don't understand how you could have _left_ me the way you did!" I can't stop replaying that night in my mind. Every single word echoes around my head. It torments me.

She is openly crying now, not bothering to hide it from me. "Because you are ashamed of me!" She yells.

I blink at her. What did she just say?

"What? Ashamed of you?" My voice is quiet. She nods in response, staring at the floor as mascara streaks down her beautiful face. "Hermione, I could never be ashamed of you. How could you think that?"

She lets out a sad little laugh. "Oh I don't know Draco. You refused to tell anyone that mattered to you about us. You _hid_ us, hid me, from everyone you love. I was your dirty little secret."

Her words took the breath out of me. How did I not realise what I was doing to her? Dirty little secret. She couldn't be further from the truth. I tell her just that. "Hermione…you could never be a dirty little secret. You were the only good in my life. You _are_ the only good in my life."

"Whatever Draco." She whispers. She suddenly looks exhausted. Defeated. Shattered. It devastates me to see her like this.

"No – don't do that." I just want to hold her again. Kiss her until all her pain is gone. "It's true. Those twelve months, they were the best moments of my life. Nothing can ever change that. I just wish I had told you that – let you know how much you mean to me."

"I should go." She turns to face the fireplace and I feel myself panicking.

"No! Please don't."

"Goodbye Draco."

I grab her arm to stop her and she flinches. I let go of her as if her mere touch scalds me. Is she scared of me? She starts moving towards the fire. Desperation courses through me.

"Hermione! Please don't leave. I love you!"

She freezes in her step. And I know that this is my only chance.

I reach over to her and turn her around so that she can see my face as I speak to her. I need her to know, to see, that I mean every single word.

"I _need_ you in my life, Hermione. You are my everything. I know I fucked up but I am not ashamed of you. I never will be. I told Blaise about us, told him everything and he chewed me out for being such a fool." She looks surprised at that. "I know that we have so much to resolve and that there is a shitload that I need to make up for – but I want to be with you. I want you and every single part of you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

I hear her gasp – I've never told her that before – but I can't stop.

"Fuck my parents. If there is one thing that I regret more than anything in my life – and you know there's a lot to regret – it's that I never stood up to them for you. But I promise you that I will. I swear to Merlin that if you want me to, I will go over there right now and tell them that they can go fuck themselves. They can disown me, they can take away my inheritance, they can cut me off from all our friends and family – I don't care! You are worth it!"

Her eyes are wide. I can see that she is trying to process everything that I am saying. But the words keep tumbling out.

"You make me the best version of myself that I can be. You are the best thing that ever happened to me; you filled a hole in my life that I didn't even know was there. You make me want to settle down, to get married, to have a bunch of children and grow old together. For Merlin's sake, I'd live in the Weasley shack if it meant I'd have you by my side forever!"

"I love you Hermione. I love you more than you can imagine. I love you more than I ever thought possible. I love you with every fibre of my being. I lo-"

Suddenly her lips are on mine, her hands frantically clutching at my shirt. She lets me deepen the kiss as I pull her against me and lift her into my arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around my waist as our lips say everything that should have been said weeks ago.

And I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

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><p><strong>AN: I would love to know what you think! I truly hope you liked it.**


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